Couplehood
by Adam Shmadam
Summary: Harry and Ruth adjust to being a couple.  A sequel of sorts to "Interesting State".
1. Chapter 1

Ruth was trying desperately to extricate herself from her current situation. She should have known this was coming when Anna was so insistent she come to The George for drinks tonight. To be fair, she had done a good job – the man who had been introduced to her and now had her cornered at the bar was handsome and quite charming. In fact, if she hadn't already been occupied with a certain fellow spook, she may have given him a chance. Pleading a headache, she left as soon as she reasonably could and grabbed a cab outside of the pub.

She reached her destination, and rang the bell. It was not too late to snatch an hour or two together. The lights were on - a mutual agreement between them that it was alright to come around. He was a bit surprised but glad to see her.

"You didn't have fun?" Harry asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Do I look miserable to you?"

"I'm not sure I'm allowed to comment. Why?"

"Anna tried to set me up tonight. It's the second time in a month."

"Was he handsome?"

"Devastatingly so." She couldn't resist teasing him. "But I happen to have my heart set on someone else."

"Glad to hear it." She leaned in and kissed him playfully at first, then more deeply. After a bit, Harry pulled away.

"What is it?" she asked with a twinge of regret.

"I feel sorry for that poor guy…"

She pondered the strange predicament she found herself in. She was in love, and for once, the object of her affection loved her back. It had been a surreal two weeks, trying to get used to being with Harry Pearce. Their work was such that it was usually difficult to spend much private time together, and combined with the fact that both were intensely private people, it was a gradual process of learning each other. They had known each other for years, but there was a difference between the "work" Harry and the "boyfriend" Harry. She marveled at his ability to unwind after work; it was if he could just shrug off the stress like he was taking off his overcoat. The gruff, uncompromising Harry known to Section D could be surprisingly gentle and funny. She couldn't help but smile when she thought of how hopeless he was at cooking.

Harry, for his part, was pinching himself. It was as if some previously unknown burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He was also absolutely terrified. It had been a long time since he had been in any kind of serious relationship and couldn't help worry about his past track record on such things. He told himself that he wasn't the same person he was twenty years ago, and he hoped to God that Ruth understood that as well. He was having fun learning all of Ruth's little quirks. He had thought by this time he would've known all of them, but he realized he had barely scratched the surface. Harry wondered, not for the first time, how she could be so brilliant and beautiful and be so blissfully unaware of it.

The next morning when Ruth arrived at work, she was confronted by Anna.

"So, who is he then?"

"Who do you mean?"

"Your new boyfriend. Don't try to deny it. You've actually been leaving work at a reasonable hour lately, and since you didn't rise to the bait of Ian, I can only conclude you've been holding out on us."

"What if I just didn't fancy Ian?"

"Not a chance. He had "I'm Ruth's type" written all over him. So, tell us. What is he like? When did you meet him, and why haven't we heard about him?"

By now, most of the Grid had been, covertly or otherwise, aware of the conversation. Ruth was well-liked amongst her coworkers and they wanted to see her happy. In addition, most had a pretty good idea that Harry had feelings for Ruth and were intensely curious to see how their leader would react to this situation. Ruth, for her part, gave thanks for Harry's plan and reminded herself never to play him at chess. Anyone who could strategize like him would tear her apart in no time.

"His name is Simon, and we've known each other for a few years now. " Ruth had decided to make things easy on herself, and stick to the truth as much as possible.

By the time Harry arrived on the Grid after his JIC meeting, the gossip surrounding Ruth's new boyfriend was at a fevered pitch. Harry conceded to himself that maybe Ruth had a point about keeping their relationship a secret. He hadn't been entirely convinced that the secrecy was necessary, but then again, by nature of his position he wouldn't be the one bearing the brunt of the inevitable good-natured teasing. Ruth had memorized the legend as well as a field officer, and he was absurdly proud of her. The night before he had come up with a simple but effective plan to fend off any speculation:

"Make a legend for me."

"What?"

"Write a legend of your boyfriend. You'll be able to answer any questions, and avoid any repeats of this evening. That way, you can hum with happiness on the Grid all you want."

"Do I hum with happiness?"

"I certainly hope so."

_**More to come soon. I love reviews! **_


	2. Chapter 2

Thankfully for Ruth, work was hectic and the interrogation about "Simon" was easing off a bit. She was finding it even more difficult than usual to avoid stealing glances at Harry through the glass of his office. When her eyes were starting to feel gritty from staring at the computer screen, she decided to take a quick break up on the rooftop. Five minutes later, the door opened and she knew it was Harry before he said "Hi" in that particular low tone of voice he seemed to use only for her.

"Why 'Simon'?" he asked.

"It's a common name. I didn't want to get too fancy." She looked over at him, and he was grinning widely.

"Where would you like to have dinner tonight?"

"How about I cook?."

He leaned into her and kissed her. It was a risky move; the roof wasn't off limits to anyone. When he reluctantly pulled away he wondered if it were possible to rig some sort of alarm on the door without the aid of Tariq or Malcolm.

"I should go…my boss is a slave-driver," she said with a smile that turned his heart to water. He stayed up on the roof for a few more minutes. It was a clear day and he needed to compose himself before heading back to the Grid. It was getting more and more difficult to keep the air of besottedness off his face. He also had to concentrate on work matters as this latest operation was proving to be a particularly long and difficult one. _Keep your head, Pearce._

It was almost five o'clock when Harry emerged from his office and marched over to Ruth's station. He looked angry, and most on the Grid were giving Harry a wide berth.

"I believe you owe me some paperwork." Harry dramatically placed a form in front of Ruth.

"Sorry, Harry…"

Before she could continue, he turned on his heel and walked away. _He's enjoying this way too much_, she thought. She stifled a smile as she noticed others on the Grid giving her sympathetic looks. She started filling out the form for background checks on one's significant other.

The next morning, Harry was seated at his desk reading the fiction that was Simon's S24. He apparently played in an orchestra. _What is it with women and musicians?_ he mused. Then it occurred to him that maybe he should start using his piano for more than a place to put his mail. He looked over at Ruth's desk. It was still early, and Ruth hadn't arrived yet. He hoped he had made a good choice.

It wasn't even midmorning, and everyone was already knee-deep in work. He tried not to, but from time to time Harry would glance up and watch Ruth. She was adorable when she was concentrating. When she was joking with one of their colleagues, her eyes would light up. _She's happy_, he thought, and marveled at the ways of the universe. The flowers arrived when the Grid was full of people. Harry couldn't have planned it better if he had tried.

Ruth was surprised when the bouquet arrived at her desk. The flowers were beautiful with lots of whites, blues, and purples. She was sure Harry was watching her and tried not to meet his eyes. She pulled out the card:

**I'm a different man when I'm with you.**

**Yours, Simon**

_He really is a very silly man_, she thought. The flowers served to fuel the teasing, rather than quell it but she didn't mind.

"They are beautiful, Harry. Thank you."

The flowers were two days old before she had a chance to talk to him properly.

"I'm glad you like them. I have something else for you, but that can wait until tonight, assuming the operation doesn't go all pear-shaped and we're stuck here for another 48 hours." He was worried, and more than usual. In the aftermath of the hotel explosions, things were even more complicated. Harry spent a great deal of his time placating the Americans, who were not happy that some of their rogue agents had been involved in the bombing. He hated playing politics, but he also knew that he needed their cooperation to get to the bottom of Nightingale. Ruth also knew that although Harry wouldn't admit it, even to her, Ros' death had affected him greatly.

Harry had been quiet during dinner. Ruth knew that he must be exhausted, but she thought it was more than that. Even her recounting of some of the comments she had received about Simon hadn't elicited much response.

"Harry, what is it?"

"I was miles away, I'm sorry."

"I could see that…Tell me."

Harry got up and pulled a large envelope from out of his overcoat. He sat down next to Ruth on the couch and tried to work up the resolve to do what he had meant to do, even if it meant causing her some pain. She sensed his reluctance, and grew increasingly worried.

"Harry…if this is going to work at all, we need to be honest with each other."

"I know." He kissed her softly, then handed her the envelope. She opened it, pulled out the contents, and tears started streaming silently down her cheeks.

"Oh, Harry….how did you get these?" They were pictures of Nico, obviously recent, and obviously taken from surveillance. He was older, a little less boyish, and in his school uniform.

"You said you missed him and had no pictures. I called in a favor or two..."

"But what happens when you _really_ need a favor from them and…"

"I'll do what I need to do….are you OK?" She was still crying and Harry was at a loss.

"I'm fine, it's just…" she couldn't finish the sentence. Harry pulled her to him, and she nestled in his arms for a long time.

"Why were you so worried? They are just pictures."

"Pictures that made you burst into tears…I wasn't sure how it would be for you, bringing up memories of Cyprus and everything…"

"You mean George." She felt him stiffen at the name.

"Yes. God help me."

She pulled away from him, and looked into his eyes which seemed to have grown much older in the last few minutes.

"Harry…I love _you._ God help _me._ I loved George, too, in a way. He gave me companionship and asked nothing from me at a time when I needed that the most. But the truth of the matter is he knew that I had left someone behind, and there was no way he was ever going to have all of me."

He was still, but he was breathing as if he had been running. She put her hands up to his face, and she kissed him tenderly. He pulled away from her after awhile but kept his forehead touching hers.

"I'm not jealous…I just…I was just so glad that you found some happiness, and then when things ended as they did…"

"Harry, it's not your fault. I know I blamed you for awhile, but it's not your fault… not George, not Jo, not Ros. They accepted the risks."

"But George?"

"There was nothing any of us could've done differently to prevent it. You know that."

"…and you should know that as much as I love you, I can't possibly give you that kind of life."

"Harry, if I wanted to be a conventional housewife, I might have managed it long ago. Simplicity can be overrated."

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the idea of Ruth being conventional at anything. They kissed again. Ruth loosened Harry's tie and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. Harry's lips abandoned Ruth's for a moment and wandered slowly down the side of her neck. His hands had found the bottom of her blouse when his mobile started ringing shrilly. Harry was sorely tempted to let it ring, but Ruth had a better handle on her self-control.

"You'd better answer that. It'll be important."

Still holding Ruth close to him, he took the call. It was apparent from Harry's half of the conversation that he would need to go, and Ruth reluctantly started buttoning up Harry's shirt. She planted a kiss at the base of his throat before doing up the final button and tightening up his tie.


	3. Chapter 3

It was late and Ruth had been staring at a screen for hours. She had reached the point when all the faces in front of her started to look the same. All but the two night shift officers had gone home long ago. She wanted to go home, have something to eat and take a long bath, but she had hoped she would see Harry when he got out of his meeting. She wondered, not for the first time, when Harry ever slept. He had been here before she arrived this morning, and now it had just gone eleven, and he was still in Whitehall. She also mused how anyone in this line of work ever managed a relationship. The logistics involved in having a meal together, never mind spending the night proved nearly insurmountable most times.

Before she could get too sorry for herself, Harry walked through the pods.

"You're still here?"

"I was just heading out."

"I'll walk you down."

Harry pulled Ruth into an embrace in the car park.

"Harry…the cameras…"

"Blind spot…" She raised her eyebrow at him. He shrugged. "Common knowledge, but I assure you I don't know from first-hand experience."

He kissed her deeply.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?"

"Keeping you waiting. I know it's not been easy, and I miss you like hell."

"Let's get something to eat."

The sunlight was streaming through the crack in Ruth's curtains. She was reluctant to get out of bed – but it was later than she usually got up, and needed to get going if she was going to be in to work on time. She lazily stretched, then rolled over to greet the other occupant of the bed. Her heart fell when she realized that it was only Fidget curled up at the foot. Then she saw the note, propped up on her bedside table. It was a small, white piece of paper with Harry's handwriting, but reading it made her heart flip over. She sat on the bed for a moment, and then grabbed her phone.

Harry had never been more reluctant to get out of bed in his life. Ruth was curled up beside him, and he could feel the warmth of her against his skin. She stirred slightly, nestling closer to him. _Damn early JIC meetings._ He needed to leave soon if he was to get himself a change of clothes before his meeting. As it was, he was cutting it very close. He didn't have the heart to wake her, so he gathered up his scattered clothes as quietly as he could. He watched her sleeping form for a moment, and then scribbled a quick note before he was gone.

He was still damp from his shower and getting dressed when his phone rang.

"Good morning," he purred.

"Hi…Thank you."

"I think I should be thanking you…" She could practically hear his smile.

"Your note…"

"I'm sorry about that. I wish I could've taken my leave in person."

"That's not what I meant….What are you doing? You sound muffled."

"Trying to get dressed whilst on the phone."

"What color tie are you wearing?"

"I haven't decided…why?"

"You look very sexy in blue." She decided not to tell him that she and Jo used to try to guess Harry's mood in the morning based on his tie choice.

"I'll bear that in mind."

"I should let you go...have fun at your meeting."

"'Fun' doesn't come into it, I'm afraid."

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you."

On his way to Whitehall, Harry placed a call he thought he'd never make in his life.

"Hello, Franz. Harry Pearce. I need you to get something for me…..That's right. I know…..no, no. Something classic, elegant. I'll stop by tomorrow, midday?

Ruth smiled to herself when Harry walked out of the pods, wearing one of his blue ties. Thankfully, no one was around to see the look that passed between them as he walked towards his office.

"Someone had a nice evening last night," Anna remarked to no one in particular.

"What makes you say so?"

"Ruth's been positively purring. That Simon must be something else."

Later in the day, Harry managed to position himself behind Ruth's chair while she was at her computer. He leaned over ostensibly to look at her screen, and his proximity made her heart race.

"Any news?" he asked.

"Not really. We think these two were runners for Nightingale, but they are small fry. We're not even close to getting near the top."

He pondered the screen for a moment before leaning in again.

"And how are you?" he asked softly.

"Fine."

"Good. I've got to be at Grosvenor Square later…I'll let you know if I find out anything." Within a few seconds of Harry returning to his office, Ruth's phone started to vibrate. The text message read:

_**Look under your keyboard. H.**_

_Always_ _the spook_, she thought. Under the keyboard, she found a keycard with a post-it note with four numbers on it. She knew immediately it was a key to Harry's house.

It was much later that evening when Harry stumbled, exhausted, into his house and found Ruth asleep on his couch. She looked peaceful lying there, but Harry knew from bitter experience that in a few hours her neck and back would not thank her. He knelt beside her and stroked her hair.

"Hmmm?"

"Time for bed, my love."

**Yes, I brought back the pods! Thanks for reading! Please review…**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thanks very much for all the reviews – keep them coming, they really motivate me to continue!**_

Fifteen days. Ruth had counted. It was fifteen days since she had last spent any time with Harry. He sometimes could be seen briefly in his office before heading off to yet another meeting, usually with the Americans. He would manage a glance in her direction on his way out of the pods, but nothing more. There was a week in that span of time when the only way she knew he wasn't languishing in some Middle Eastern jail somewhere were the sporadic text messages he would send to her. She was feeling a bit sorry for herself, so she indulged in one of her favorite vices – a long, hot bath accompanied with a large glass of wine. As her muscles gradually relaxed in the steamy water, she tried to think back to another time that Harry was out so much. There must have been stretches like this, but she couldn't think of any. She wasn't sure if that was because it simply hadn't happened before, or if she was just a little more aware of his absence now that they were together. Ruth was trying not to not read to much into Harry's absence – he was busy doing what he could to get more information on Nightingale, nothing more. Still, she couldn't help but feel a bit neglected, but then she felt angry with herself for being selfish. Everyone in the security services has to make personal sacrifices.

Harry was leaving Grosvenor Square for the second time that day. He was extremely irritated, but he knew it was more because he hadn't seen Ruth in fifteen days than the colossal waste of time the last meeting had been. He glanced at his watch and contemplated going to see Ruth, but it was already past midnight and he knew that there was going to be a briefing first thing in the morning. As he dialed the phone, he hoped that she wasn't asleep yet.

She was just starting to drift off when she heard the phone ringing.

"Hello," she said sleepily.

"Hi, stranger. Did I wake you?"

"Not really. How are you?"

"Bloody. I really just wanted to hear your voice."

"Are you coming over?" she couldn't help but hope so.

"No. As much as I'd like to, I've still got some paperwork to go through before tomorrow's briefing."

"Well, I suppose I'll see you then." The disappointment in her voice was a weight on his heart, and for a brief moment he considered how much fallout would occur in the morning when the DG didn't have those surveillance reports.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly.

"No, you don't. But I do love you anyway."

"I love you, Ruth."

Bright and early the next morning, everyone was assembled for the briefing. This meeting was unusual by the fact that Harry's CIA counterpart in England was going to give it. Charlotte Bryant was one of those women who demand attention. She was tall with auburn hair, and impeccably dressed. She was the kind of woman that men can't help but notice, and women instinctively loathe. It was apparent during the briefing that she was very bright and good at her job. It was also very apparent, to Ruth especially, that she was definitely making a play for Harry. She would address her more significant comments to him, followed by unmistakable looks. Harry, for his part, tried to deflect what he could, but she was undeterred, even with most of Section D as an audience.

After the briefing, Harry ran off to another meeting with the DG. While he was gone, the Grid was aflame with gossip. The consensus opinion was that Harry and Charlotte were having a torrid affair. Not only was he out of the office more often than usual, but he had seemed happier in recent weeks, they concluded. Ruth was out of sorts, and then angry at herself for being out of sorts. She rationalized that even if he were so inclined, there were simply not enough hours in the day for Harry to have an affair. But she had to acknowledge that she _was_ very attractive, and Harry had been spending an inordinate amount of time at her office lately. Ruth told herself firmly that she was being ridiculous, and it was only because she was very frustrated and lonely lately that the thought of Harry's fidelity was in question at all. She waffled back and forth on this all day, and was in a horrible mood by the time she left work. She took the bus home, hoping to clear her head a bit. She walked around the corner towards her flat and was surprised to see Harry's car parked out front.

"I don't want to spend the limited time I have with you arguing about Charlotte Bryant," Harry said.

"We're not arguing."

"You're right. You've just been glaring at me all evening."

"And you conclude it must be because of her."

"I may not have been around much lately, but I'm well aware of what's passing for gossip on the Grid, especially after the show she gave this morning."

"You didn't seem to mind too much." This was not the reaction he expected. He thought that Ruth would have found Charlotte's display humorous rather than threatening.

"You can't seriously believe…" She didn't, not really. But his absence lately had hurt her more than even she realized and she wanted to lash out at him. Harry suddenly was gripped with terror. He was smart enough to know that the issue of his past affairs would come up at some point, but he didn't think it would be this soon.

"You don't trust me," he declared. Before she could reply, his phone started to ring from the depths of his pocket.

"You'd better get that. It'll be important."

"No. _This_ is important." He shut off his phone, and tossed it over Ruth's shoulder. It clattered around in the empty sink.

"Ruth, listen to me. You are not Jane, and I am not the same person I was twenty years ago. We were young and stupid when we married. I was going to save the world single-handedly. She hated me being a spook, always complaining about the hours and the pay. She came to believe that since I lied for a living, I must be lying all the time. After awhile, I figured if I was going to be blamed for something, it might as well be for something I actually did. I was petty, and I hated myself for it. I broke it off when Jane was pregnant with Catherine, but by then, the only thing we were good at was being hurtful to each other."

Ruth was dumbfounded. It was as if she had witnessed the thawing of a glacier. Harry had moved closer to her, and she could see that he was trembling. She closed the gap between them, and kissed him hard.

"I do trust you, Harry. It's just I've missed you so much…and hearing what the others were saying…"

"Now you know how annoying 'Simon' is for me. Don't get me wrong, I love to see you happy, but it's hard to not be able to take some credit for it."

"It was your idea." She countered.

"I know, but it's not a long-term solution is it? I want to be able to take you out or send you cards without someone else's name on them."

"Harry, I don't want to spend the limited time I have with you arguing about Simon." She gave him a shy smile, and he was lost.

"Alright, but we will have to deal with this at some point."

She led him upstairs, and he forgot all about his mobile in the sink.

_**Please review! **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you very much for the reviews – keep them coming! I'm sorry this chapter took awhile – real life has been intruding on my fanfic writing! Enjoy!**_

Harry was not looking forward to this evening. He would much rather be with Ruth than have to work the room at the trade delegation reception. For a split second he had thought to take Ruth with him, but it was impossible. Keeping their relationship a secret was proving to be difficult for him. What started out as a sort of black op had begun to get tedious. He longed to take her out somewhere, anywhere without having to invent a fictional meeting and arrange elaborate transportation scenarios. But he was getting ahead of himself. _One step at a time, Pearce._ _She's happy, but not ready quite yet. Don't let your ego screw this up. _He contemplated sneaking out early, but it was Wednesday night and Ruth had choir practice anyway. He chuckled at himself at his complete transformation into a grass widower when Ruth wasn't around. With some difficulty, he turned to the files in front of him. If he could clear some of this stuff off his desk, he thought he could manage to take Ruth away somewhere out of London for the weekend. They had been working even longer hours than usual, and the idea of 48 hours alone with Ruth away from the Grid was as close to heaven as he could think of.

Ruth was on her way to catch the bus when she received the call that choir practice had been cancelled. She knew that Harry would be off at that reception, so she was at a bit if a loose end. If she was practical, she'd go home and catch up on her laundry and sleep. But being practical wasn't very appealing to her at the moment. So, with a plan in her head, she boarded a different bus. She thought of the first time she had been in Harry's house, not so long ago. She wasn't sure what she expected, but the presence of a piano hadn't entered her mind. Harry had seemed oddly shy at first that evening. He had tried to impress her by cooking dinner and failed horribly. After the smoke detector went off, they ended up getting a curry from down the street, laughing all the way.

She punched in the key code, unpacked the groceries she just purchased, and started to make Harry's surprise dinner. She knew where everything was kept, since she spent more time here than at her own flat. Ruth had barely started chopping the vegetables when she heard the front door open and shut. _The reception must have been worse than he thought if he's home this early. _

Catherine was looking forward to visiting with her father. He had no idea she was in London, and thought it would good to surprise him. Their relationship had improved greatly over the last few years. After the whole November Committee episode, they had started to communicate more. Things were very tentative at first, but Catherine was glad to finally get to know her father. As long as she could remember, her parents had not got on. Since her father was the one away all the time, she naturally took her mother's side. It was only when she became an adult and went out on her own, that she realized that there are two sides to every relationship. He was actually very supportive and funny, when he let the spook veneer come off with her. She hoped he would be glad of her news. When she parked the rental car at his house, she was surprised to find lights on, as she assumed he'd be working late as usual. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to receive an e-mail from her father sent after 10:00 p.m. on any given day. When she opened the door and smelled something like edible food coming from the kitchen, she knew that something was very different.

"Hi. The reception was that good, was it?" Ruth asked.

"Sorry?" It was definitely not Harry's voice.

Ruth went into the hall, and nearly bumped into Catherine, who was intensely curious as to the woman cooking in her father's kitchen. Ruth knew Catherine from all of Harry's pictures of course, but looking at her blank stare, she suddenly realized that Catherine had no idea who she was.

"Sorry…I'm Ruth…your father's…um….girlfriend."

"I'm the daughter, Catherine. Although I'm guessing you already knew that."

"Yes."

"Listen, if I'm interrupting…"

"No, not at all." Catherine was skeptical. "No, really… He doesn't know I'm here…he's at a trade reception, and I thought a decent dinner would be in order and…he's going to be _so_ glad to see you."

Catherine laughed and Ruth suddenly had a flash of Harry. "Well, that's good, because I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees the both of us!"

Catherine offered to help with the dinner, and soon both were talking like old friends. Ruth was fascinated by Catherine's work in the Middle East, and for Catherine's part, she was dying of curiosity about Ruth and her father.

"You work with my father?"

"Yes, for a long time. Although it's only been a few months that…" Ruth trailed off vaguely.

Something clicked in Catherine's brain. "This may seem like a weird question, but were you away for awhile, about four years ago?"

Ruth thought of the implications of this. Harry told Catherine about her exile?

"Yes, but…"

"I know, you can't tell me about it." The look on Ruth's face worried her. "I think you misunderstand. He didn't tell me about you…well, not in so many words. But he came to visit me soon after you had left, and he wasn't at all himself. I did what I could to get it out of him, but that was a colossal waste of time. The only thing he would acknowledge was that he had let someone very dear to him down, and that 'she was gone from him forever'. I'm glad he was wrong about that."

They both smiled and Catherine poured some wine for them both.

"I usually stay here when I'm in London, but my father doesn't know I'm here and I can easily clear out to my mother's…"

"I'm sure he wouldn't want you to go anywhere else. You don't need to clear out on my account - we're not living together. Even if we were, I wouldn't want you to go anywhere else." Ruth added.

They talked some more, about all sorts of things. Catherine made Ruth promise to have lunch with her on Friday, before she went off to Jane's for the weekend.

"I'm sorry," Ruth said, "it's just you are so much like your father sometimes. Not physically, but your mannerisms…"

"I know, and it annoys my mother to no end."

It surprised him to see the lights on. _Oh, Ruth, how much do I love you?_ He really needed to book that weekend first thing in the morning. He mounted the steps, opened the door, but was confronted by a sight he never in a million years would've guessed - the two women of his life, chatting away in his living room, as if they had been friends for years.

"So that's why my ears were burning all night!"

"Hi, Dad. Surprised?" She got up and Harry gave her a big bear hug.

"Hmm, yes. Is that proper food I'm smelling?"

"Yes, and if we hurry it may still be edible," Ruth said.

"I'm just going to change and then you can tell me about your conspiracies." He gave Ruth a quick kiss and couldn't help but notice her appreciative glance at his dinner jacket and black tie. _I really am a lucky bastard_, he thought.

"So, how was the reception?"

"As expected. Room full of stuffed shirts, cold finger food, warm wine. So, where is the boyfriend and why haven't I met him yet?" Harry could be a bit of a father figure on the Grid, but that was nothing compared to the paternal display she was witnessing at the moment.

"Stephen had to work, but he's flying in on Saturday. We have some news actually…we're getting married…in the spring."

Amid cries of "congratulations", Harry wrapped Catherine in another big hug, and Ruth ventured into the kitchen to find some champagne.

Harry was suddenly very serious. "Are you happy, really happy I mean?"

"Yes, Dad, I am. And if I weren't I know someone who is," she teased him.

Harry shrugged, but he had a wide grin on his face.

"She's lovely, Dad…Truly."

"Don't I know it!"

The dinner and conversation was excellent, the only awkwardness being when Catherine invited Harry and Ruth to Jane's for Sunday dinner to meet Stephen. Ruth was touched that she would be included in a family event such as this, but she really wasn't ready to face Harry's ex-wife, remarried or not. She made the excuse that she was going to visit her mother for the weekend, which wasn't exactly the truth, but not entirely a lie, either. She had intended to visit her soon, and this weekend would work as well as any other. Harry was a little disappointed Ruth couldn't join him, but appreciated the difficulties. It had been years since he had seen Jane, and he really wasn't looking forward to it, but he would be there and be on his best behaviour, for Catherine's sake.

"Warn your mother to take the garlic down from the door, and I'll be there."

It was late, and Ruth decided she needed to get home. It had been a lovely evening, but Harry and Catherine had some catching up to do, and the wine was making her sleepy. They both tried to get her to stay, but Ruth was firm, and Harry called a taxi for her. Catherine gave her a big hug,

"I'm so glad to meet you, Ruth. See you for lunch Friday?"

"If I can get away, yes."

"I forgot…your boss is a bastard," Catherine gave a little wink to Harry, who was chuckling. A few years ago, and this scene would've never happened between them. Catherine's phone started to ring.

"That'll be Stephen. Bye, Ruth. I'll give you a call."

Presently the car arrived and Harry walked with Ruth down to the pavement. He took her hand and brought it up to his lips, before bringing it to rest over his heart.

"Thank you."

"Whatever for?" she asked.

"This evening…everything, really."

"Catherine is a wonderful girl."

"I think so, but then I'm biased. I'm glad you like her."

He leaned down and gave her a long, soft kiss before reluctantly letting her go.

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you. Goodnight, Ruth."

_**Please review!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long to come to fruition – I've been in a bit of a writing block lately…**_

Ruth was finishing up packing an overnight bag when she heard her door open and shut downstairs.

"Ruth?" Harry's voice called up to her.

"Hi…my train leaves in an hour, Harry."

"Time for some breakfast?" He held up a bakery bag. They were in her kitchen, watching the rain pelting down the window. Harry looked a little tired.

"I'm going to miss you."

"Harry, it's only a weekend. Besides, you'll be too busy raking Catherine's fiancé over the coals tomorrow."

"I still wish you could be here." He pulled her close to him and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"You take care, yes?"

"I will. Go easy on Stephen. She loves him, you know."

She liked taking public transport – it allowed her to think. As usual, her thoughts turned to Harry and their relationship. She was happy, he was happy. It seemed almost too good to be true, sometimes. She was resisting the urge to overanalyze everything and trying hard not to get paranoid about it. _Just don't take anything for granted_, she kept telling herself. Harry had been a bit withdrawn this morning, although he was the one that came over to see her off. She knew he was starting to chafe at keeping their relationship a secret, but she wasn't sure she was ready to face the alternative. Ruth didn't want to be known as _that_ woman. In addition to seeing her mother, Ruth was going to visit one of her old school friends. Maybe she could give Ruth a fresh perspective on her situation. Her phone started to vibrate; it was a silly message from Harry. She sent him back an equally ridiculous message, and smiled as she leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the countryside racing by.

The weather matched Harry's mood perfectly. The rain from yesterday had not let up, and the seeping damp made both his shoulders ache – one from a shotgun blast, the other from a broken collarbone suffered not too long ago. He hadn't slept well. He had thought of all those years he had slept alone, sprawled out in the middle of his bed but now Ruth was away and he couldn't manage two nights. He missed her soft warmth beside him and the vaguely lavender scent of her hair. As he drove down to Sussex, he wondered about how Jane would be. He made a solemn promise to himself that for Catherine's sake, he would not rise to any of her arguments. Harry was very curious about Stephen, Catherine's soon-to-be husband. He knew biographical details, but wanted to actually get to know him. It would break his heart to see his daughter unhappy. Maybe Graham would be there. He hadn't seen his son in a few years, and his attempts at trying to communicate with him had been rebuffed. Even if he wouldn't talk to him, at least being able to see him would be something. The thought of what a terrible father he had been was the great regret of his life. Harry pondered what would happen if he and Ruth…it would be a hell of a complication, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. He was certain that Ruth would be an amazing mother, but he was much less certain she even wanted children. They hadn't discussed it – he was still trying to convince her that the world would not end if their colleagues knew they were together.

It was late and the afternoon and Harry was sitting in the corner of Jane's sitting room with a drink, observing from afar. The dinner had gone better than expected and he found he liked Stephen quite a lot. He was intelligent but not pretentious, and had a good sense of humour. It was also blatantly obvious that he and Catherine adored one another. While in the middle of these musings, Jane came and sat opposite Harry.

"What do you think?" she asked him, indicating the couple on the other side of the room.

"They'll do well. They're not so idiotically young…"

"Like we were?" She chuckled. "Well, I suppose we certainly gave her an example on how not to be married." Her voice was without rancour or bitterness, and Harry found himself glad for it.

"Here's to negative examples," Harry raised his glass.

Jane considered Harry carefully. "You're looking well. Catherine tells me you have a girlfriend." He grinned; it was a look she remembered but hadn't seen on him in a lifetime.

"Is she a spook too?"

"Yes."

"That should make things easier."

"You would think that, but not necessarily…"

While Harry was having the potentially weirdest conversation of his life, Stephen pointed out the pair to Catherine.

"I thought you said they didn't get on at all."

"They don't, but I think we can attribute this to Ruth's calming influence on my father."

"And here I am thinking it's because of me!"

Ruth pondered where to go – to Harry's or her own flat, where she was spending less and less time. It was late, but not too late to spend some time with Harry before Monday morning's crush of work. She checked her messages and there was only one thing from the Grid, but it was a question about some back files that could easily wait until morning. She grabbed a taxi from the station, and with a vague nervousness gave the cabbie Harry's address.

Harry had been uncommonly glad to see her, but he sensed that something was bothering her. They were lying in bed, and Ruth was tracing her finger around the large scar on his left shoulder.

"What is it, Ruth?"

"Hmm?"

"You're miles away, and my ego is in serious jeopardy at the moment."

"Are we foolish, Harry?"

"What do you mean?" She felt him tense ever so slightly.

"I saw an old school friend of mine this weekend. She had a great job, loving husband, kids. But he eventually got bored or something and left her. She's a wreck, Harry. Bitter and sad, so totally unlike how I remembered her. I never would've recognized her if I bumped into her on the street. What if…"

"Ruth…there's always a risk when you open yourself up to someone else. We both know that, too well. And I'm not leaving you, no matter how often you steal the covers or force me to watch another Jane Austen movie…"

"But what if something happens?" He indicated his scar. "This could've easily killed you…"

"I can't promise you anything, I wish to God that I could. But if we've learned anything in our job it's not to postpone joy. I'm not planning on checking out anytime soon, but when I do, I know that I'll be glad I finally got the nerve to ask you out for dinner, instead of just staring at you from afar.." He kissed her, and she kissed him back. After awhile, she pulled away and started to chuckle.

"Do I even want to know what's so funny?"

She proceeded to tell him how she managed to slip a note to him through security in the hospital when he got the scar. Harry laughed, but then suddenly got very serious.

"Did you know even then?"

"I think…I think that's when I first realized it, yes. It just spilled out of my mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. Scared the hell out of me, actually."

He brushed a bit of hair off of her face, and kissed her with a tenderness that practically made her forget her own name.

"I think I need to send Tom a fruit basket or something."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Angst ahoy! (Don't worry, it'll turn out OK!)**_

"Are you coming to the George tonight, Ruth?"

"Yes, please." It had been a horrendous week, and the way today was turning out, she could use a drink. Or three. They had fought again this morning. She couldn't even remember how it started, but it had evolved into another "discussion" about her fictional boyfriend. Harry had wanted to take her to out for some theatre performance and she had balked at being out in public. He asked her if she was so ashamed of their relationship, why hadn't she left him yet? Before she could reply, he had received an urgent call from the Home Secretary and for the first time in months, he left her that morning without kissing her goodbye.

He had been avoiding her today. Harry had gone straight into his office and was on the phone continuously as soon as he had come back from Whitehall. She had been staring into his office, as if willing him to look at her, but to no avail. She had gone up to the roof for some air, but he didn't follow as he usually did. Ruth wasn't sure what to do. She loved him with a clarity that sometimes terrified her. This situation had been brewing for awhile now, but she still was nowhere near an answer. He was resentful, understandably so, at having to keep their relationship a secret. She didn't like it either, despite what Harry thought. Ruth supposed she was lucky that he had gone along with this for as long as he had. Six months is a long time to be living a double life, no matter how pleasant one of those lives is. _It's not going to get resolved with me up here alone feeling sorry for myself_, she thought. _I need to talk to him_. She turned around to head back downstairs and was surprised by the sight of Harry, hands in pockets, leaning up against the rooftop door, watching her.

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He was frustrated and angry and when the call came from the Home Secretary, we welcomed it. At least high political intrigue was something he felt he could control. During the morning, he had thought about at least calling or sending a text, but words were inadequate as usual. _You're a coward, Pearce, and you don't deserve her. _He busied himself with work, and avoided looking out at Ruth. He didn't want to see the hurt on her face again. He saw her head up towards the roof, and thought of following her, but he was terrified of what she would say to him. He berated himself for several minutes for being such a fool, and headed up to the roof.

When he saw her, his heart turned to water. She had her back to him, and she hadn't yet noticed he was there. He stood there, transfixed, by the sight of her form, silhouetted against the London skyline. It was a clear day, and the sun was glinting off her hair. He tried to count how many times he had wrapped his hands around that waist or kissed the back of her neck, and failed horribly. He was still studying her when she suddenly spun around and startled at the sight of him. He was desperately trying to read the emotion on her face.

They stood there for who knows how long, neither saying a word. It was Harry who moved first, taking a few long strides before gently taking her face and his hands and kissing her. She kissed him back, but was the first to pull away.

"Harry, you can't just expect to kiss me and make this all go away."

"I know, but I thought it was worth a try," he smiled slightly and continued in barely above a whisper, "I am sorry. I've been an idiot and a bully. It's not fair to you…"

"I'm sorry, too. We need to work something out, Harry."

"I know, but we may have to wait a bit."

"What do you mean?"

"It looks like I may have to go to Washington for a few days, maybe a week. I've been trying to avoid it, but the Home Secretary was pretty insistent this morning." He kissed her again. _Damn_, she thought, _how can I stay mad at him when he kisses like this?_

Ruth was sitting, glass of wine in hand, in the corner at the pub that evening. Anna was relating a very funny story of one of many her disastrous first dates. Ruth felt a little bit better. She and Harry had pulled back from the precipice. She was still uneasy, but at least they were talking.

"I don't believe it…" someone motioned to the door.

Malcolm had walked in, followed by Harry. Although always invited, Harry only occasionally came for drinks with the team at the George. He had reasoned that it was better for everyone if he gave them frequent opportunities to complain about him. Ruth was suddenly gripped with panic. She and Harry tried to keep their interactions at work strictly businesslike, but now here he was in a purely social setting, and he had a look on his face that said "Let's see who slips up first". She needn't have worried too much, though. Harry soon was embroiled in a heated discussion with Malcolm, about cricket it sounded like. He was within earshot of the group, but not too close. At one point later in the evening, she was admiring Harry's shoulders as he waited at the bar for more drinks when Anna directed a question at her.

"You're quiet tonight. You OK?"

"Just tired, I suppose."

"Simon keeping you up, is he?" Anna chuckled.

"Something like that." She couldn't help but smile a little - Anna's laugh was infectious. Harry had returned from the bar, just in time to hear about Simon. His only reaction was an almost imperceptible twitch in one of his eyebrows.

As the crowd thinned out a bit, Harry managed to find a seat next to Ruth. He had shed his jacket and tie and Ruth was slightly annoyed by how much she was affected by that.

"Alright?" he asked her.

"Yes." She tried to act casual and was failing utterly. Harry either didn't notice, or was pretending not to.

"Would you like another drink?"

"No, I think I've reached my limit. I was planning to head home soon."

"Me too. I have to get packing…"

"Going anywhere special?" Lucas chimed in.

"I'm being sent to Washington tomorrow, but not first thing. I'll catch you up with what you can do while I'm gone."

Most everyone had gone home, or was preparing to leave. Harry had managed to get a cab for them both, without attracting too much attention. Ruth got in, and Harry let her give the cabby the address. Ruth looked at Harry, but his face was impassive. He had made a promise to himself that he would let her take the lead. She hesitated only a split second, then gave Harry's address. She gave Harry a little smile, and he took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"How long will you be gone?" She was sitting on the bed while he was meticulously packing a suitcase.

"I'm not sure, but it looks like at least a week. I don't know what they expect me to do there, I'm not a diplomat." The exasperation in his voice was evident.

"You'll be there for your birthday."

"We'll just have to celebrate when I get back."

He sat beside her on the bed and studied her face. She looked tired. He took her in his arms and held her. He was basking in the thought that she had come home with him. Whatever obstacles they had to face, she had chosen to face them _with_ him, and he was humbled.

"Ruth, I love you…and if I have to keep that from the world until the end of my days, I will. Your happiness is the most important thing…"

"How can I be happy when you're not? I know this secrecy bothers you, and it's not fun for me, either. I am not ashamed of being with you, far from it. But I don't know if I want to be known as the woman who's shagging the boss."

"Anyone who knows you or works with you for five minutes is going to know that there is more to you than that…"

"What about the repercussions for you? Your authority…"

"…will survive. It must be pretty tenuous if who I choose to spend my private time with has any bearing on how the team works with me. Look, we're not going to solve this tonight. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. While I'm gone, we can think on it and deal with it, properly, when I get back."

He kissed her softly, and she responded to him.

"I'm going to miss you, Harry Pearce. Come back to me soon."

_**Thanks for reading! Please take a moment to review – they really encourage me to keep going with this!**_


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth was making coffee in Harry's kitchen, when he came up behind her and put his hands around her waist. She leaned back into him as he planted a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Don't look so grim, Ruth."

"I don't like goodbyes."

"It's only for a week or so…and when I get back, if the fanatics can hold off on blowing something up for a few days, we'll go away somewhere."

Harry was on the Grid that morning long enough to give Lucas and Malcolm a briefing on what they needed to do while he was gone. On his way to the pods, he stole a glance at Ruth – she was trying hard to smile.

"Have a good trip, Harry."

This trip annoyed him greatly. He still wasn't sure what it was it was supposed to accomplish. He wasn't a diplomat (far from it), and he could see no operational reason for him to go all the way to America. He had the sneaking suspicion that this was a publicity stunt to placate the cousins, although he was at a loss as to what possible advantage his presence would be. He really just wanted to spend his time with Ruth. The plane wasn't even off the tarmac, and he missed her terribly. It was going to be a hell of a week.

Ruth, for her part, was trying to be philosophical. Perhaps some time apart would be good for her to gain some perspective. Harry's presence often made it hard for her to think clearly. She had enough work to keep her busy, and she intended to use her time to get some done. It was easier said than done, however. She couldn't help but glance towards his darkened office, wondering what he was doing. He would make an official call in to Grid each day for informal briefings, and he would try to send her text messages throughout the day. She had also received some flowers from "Simon", the card simply saying "I love you." She was trying hard not to feel too sorry for herself.

Harry's trip was proving to be just as he feared. He was in a lot of meetings, but none of any substance. He had hoped, in his more optimistic moments, to gather some information on some of Nightingale's American connections, but he was thwarted at every turn. To make matters worse, Charlotte Bryant was also in the U.S.

"I'm beginning to think that you're avoiding me." She had him cornered at the hotel bar.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, Harry. I'm not stupid. How about dinner?"

Ruth had just about reached her limit. She hadn't seen the outside world in about two days and needed a break. Leaving at a reasonable hour for once, she took a walk. She found herself going down towards the Embankment, but soon found herself in front of one of her many favorite bookshops. Unable to resist the temptation, she entered the shop and started looking through the new arrivals.

"Ruth, is that you?" a voice from behind called.

She turned around to find herself face to face with a man she hadn't seen in years. Philip had been the boyfriend of her University flatmate, and at the time, she had a bit of a crush on him. He was older now of course, but still quite handsome. They talked over English Literature, and before Ruth knew it, she had accepted his invitation to get some dinner.

Much later that evening, Ruth was back at her flat. Dinner was pleasant enough, but she felt a bit badly about it. She had to make it very clear to Philip at the outset that she was in a relationship. He had taken the rejection with good grace, but she thought he looked a bit disappointed. She missed Harry very much. As if on cue, her phone started ringing.

"Hi." He sounded exasperated.

"Hi. Are you OK?"

"Just missing you. I have no idea why I'm here. I'm wasting my time."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I miss you, too."

"I'm not sure I feel any better, but it is reassuring. Anything new there?"

"Not really. I just had a very awkward dinner." She proceeded to tell him about bumping into Philip.

"Poor guy. Maybe you could give him Charlotte Bryant's number, and then we both could have some peace."

"She's there?" Ruth tried to sound calmer than she felt.

"Yes. We had dinner…I think I may have bored her to tears, though. I spent the entire time talking about my wonderful girlfriend."

They talked for a long time, about everything and nothing. It was past midnight in London when Harry finally rang off.

"I love you, Ruth. Hang in there."

The next morning, Ruth felt like death. She tried to get out of bed, but was overcome by nausea like she had never known. For the first time in anyone's memory, Ruth called in sick to work. She suddenly remembered she was supposed to have lunch with Catherine who was in London for a few days. So, in between trips to the bathroom, she found her phone and called to cancel. After talking to Ruth, Catherine decided she needed to go and see her, as she sounded truly awful. Ruth was surprised to hear her doorbell. It took her awhile to answer the door, but was glad to see Harry's daughter on the threshold. Not long into her visit, Catherine had decided on a course of action.

"Let's go, Ruth. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No….I just need some rest…"

"Don't argue. I can be stubborn, too. There is no way I'm facing Dad if anything happens to you while he's away."

In the car, a strange thought occurred to Ruth. What if this wasn't just a stomach bug? What if…? She could barely put it into words. She tried to think back, and thought that it could certainly be possible. Thoughts of Harry filled her and she was struck with panic when she thought of how on earth she was going to tell him.

The Home Secretary would be greatly vexed at him when he returned, but Harry didn't care. He was wasting his time, and he had enough of being paraded around Washington. Apparently, despite all their talk to equality, the Americans had a great curiosity for anyone with a knighthood and Harry was through with being the main attraction at the British delegation's dog-and-pony show. He managed to get himself an early flight back, and with any luck would be back in Ruth's arms two days earlier than expected.

She wasn't pregnant, of course. It was just a case of ordinary food poisoning. She should have felt relieved, but was vaguely sad. Her initial panic had transformed imperceptibly into hope, and she was at a loss. Catherine drove her home, and stayed as long as she was able. When she had to go, she left Ruth strict instructions to ring her if she needed anything. Ruth was still feeling nauseous and weak, and eventually got tired of running to the bathroom, so she simply lay down on the cool tiles of the floor of her upstairs bath. She vaguely heard her door open and shut, and assumed it was Catherine checking up on her. If she hadn't been so weak, she would've jumped for joy at the sight of Harry in her doorway.

"What the..?"

"Food poisoning…I feel bloody awful."

"Serves you right for going out to dinner with anyone other than me." He shed his jacket, sat down beside her, and stroked her hair.

"This isn't a hallucination?"

"No, my love, I'm really here." He kissed her cheek, and then started to rub the small of her back.

"Don't stop, that's helping…"

"I used to do this when Jane was preg-" He stopped short, realizing the implication.

"No, Harry, I'm not."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I've been to hospital. It's just food poisoning."

They were silent for a long time. It was Ruth who finally spoke.

"Are you disappointed?"

"I don't know…honestly. How about you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it before now. I should've been less shocked by the possibility, though." She gave Harry that shy smile of hers which made his heart skip a beat.

After a bit when Ruth started feeling slightly better, Harry moved her into her bed, and lay down beside her. He was exhausted, but his mind was racing and he couldn't sleep. Just when he thought he couldn't love her any more than he did, something like today would happen. His heart was full, and he was determined to not take anything about Ruth for granted. The jetlag started to creep up on him, though, and as he finally drifted off, he heard her mumble,

"Happy birthday, Harry."

_**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review…!**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Many, many thanks for all the reviews! I'm very grateful and humbled…enjoy!**_

Ruth woke to the now familiar sensation of Harry's arm around her. She was lying in bed with her back against his chest and she could tell by his breathing that he was still asleep. Moving so slowly so as not to wake him, she turned over and leaned on her elbow to look at him. Usually, he was the one to wake up first, and she was enjoying this rare moment when she could study him without him making her blush. He looked peaceful lying there, without a care for national security for once. It was a face she had known, dreamed of, for years now, but she was still amazed by how much he could surprise her. Not for the first time, she marveled at how expressive Harry could be especially considering his line of work. Maybe she was just better at reading him than most. He stirred slightly, and she hoped he wouldn't wake up quite yet. God knows he needed the rest.

She thought of the last twenty-four hours or so and its range of emotions she was still trying to sort out. The possibility of her being pregnant had shocked, terrified, overjoyed, and then terrified her again in quick succession. She had never really put much thought into whether or not she wanted children; they seemed incompatible with the career she knew she wanted and her track record with relationships had made that kind of self-examination somewhat self-indulgent. But then she had George and Nico. She didn't have to think, really, about children then either. They came together, and to have one you had to have the other. In the relatively short time she had been a mother, she found herself unexpectedly enjoying it. She had grieved as much for the loss of the son as she had for the father at George's death. Now, she'd have to face up to the possibility of maybe someday having a child with the man who was sleeping beside her, blissfully unaware of her current train of thought. Harry was relentless and stubborn, but he could also be gentle, patient and kind. By his own admission, he had been a terrible father to his two children, but Ruth wondered how much of that was really true, and how much of it was Harry not living up to his impossibly high expectations of himself. There was always Jane, as well. Harry rarely spoke of her, for obvious reasons, and maybe she was already predisposed to dislike her, but Ruth had the impression that Jane had been a bit of a harpy.

Harry stirred again, and this time he was drifting into wakefulness. His hand had started to caress her hip, as he cautiously opened one eye to gaze at the woman beside him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked sleepily.

""Better, I think. I still feel pretty weak, but I think I could eat something."

"In that case, I should get you something." He started to get up, and she protested.

"Ruth, I can manage to make toast."

She chuckled, and the look on her face was vaguely skeptical.

"It's not that…I just don't want you to get up just yet."

They lay silently in each others' arms for awhile. Harry continued to marvel at the situation he found himself in. He was lying beside the most beautiful and baffling woman he had ever known. She was intelligent, stubborn, and kind. She had come into his life as unexpectedly as a thunderclap, and had wormed her way under his defenses so gradually that he hadn't even noticed it had happened until it was too late. When he had finally acknowledged his emotions for one of the few times in his life, she had left. He had never thought she would return, and he would berate himself in those lonely moments when he allowed himself to hope otherwise. When she had come back, he was surprised at the intensity of his feelings, but had resigned himself never to act on them. The circumstances of her return were such that they could never start up again where they had left off. But miraculously, somehow they had managed to find common ground again, and found the courage to trust.

He thought back to a few hours ago. The possibility of Ruth bearing his child had simultaneously petrified and elated him. He had never seriously considered becoming a father again, having made such a hash of it previously. When he had thought about Ruth and children it had been decidedly theoretical, but in those few moments, he was thrust into reality rather than theory. _First things first_, he thought. _Don't get ahead of yourself. Not just yet._

The shrill ring of his mobile burst in on his thoughts. Ruth couldn't help but giggle, watching Harry lurch out of bed to find his phone from the depths of his jacket pocket. He gave her a mocking "just you wait" look as he answered the phone. His half of the conversation was brief.

"I need to go see the DG. I'm not sure how long I'll be. Will you be OK?"

"I'll be fine, Harry…really."

Before he left, Harry did manage to make Ruth some toast and tea, and made her promise not to go back to the Grid until she was absolutely ready to do so. He kissed her, and as she heard the door shut behind him, Ruth thought that she was a very lucky woman. She had also come to a very important decision, and was resolved to see it out as soon as possible. After her breakfast, she needed to make a phone call or two.

The next few days were chaotic, but not unusually so for Section D. Ruth and Harry had seen little of each other outside of the Grid. A small cell of arms dealers had been broken up, and Tariq and Malcolm were vying for technological supremacy by working on another decryption program. Drabbles of information from various watch lists were being compiled, but so far not much progress had been made with regards to Nightingale, which was making Harry very hard to deal with at work.

It had been a long day, and being late Friday afternoon, most were just finishing up with what they were doing before heading out when the alarms sounded for a lockdown drill.

"Figures…I had plans tonight." wailed Anna.

One of the newer junior officers asked how long these drills lasted.

"It depends. Sometimes a half an hour, sometimes twenty-four." Malcolm answered. There was not much to do during these periods, as most of the computer networks were locked down as well. Those who could complete what they were doing on paper did so by the light of little emergency lanterns. The others amused themselves by annoying the ones who were working. Harry had ventured out of his office. He had wanted to talk to Ruth, but the Grid was full of people who were not going anywhere anytime soon and he was annoyed. He had had a long day, and it showed. His shirt was rumpled, his tie was loose, and he had abandoned his jacket ages ago. _This is as good a time as any_, Ruth thought. So, with as authoritative a voice as she could muster under the very confused look of Harry, she asked for everyone's attention as she had an announcement. Those new to the section were curious, as Ruth tended more toward one-on-one interactions with people; those who had known her longer were much more than that.

"As you know, I've been seeing someone for awhile." Malcolm was stunned – Ruth rarely was open about her private life under any circumstances. He shot a cautious glance at Harry, who seemed to be as befuddled as he was. Anna had instantly drawn her own conclusion.

"Simon's proposed! Congratulations!"

"No, not that….you see…well, I have a confession…" Ruth was getting flustered, and she was steadfastly _not_ looking at Harry. Harry's heart and mind had been racing, and he never thought her babbling was more adorable than this moment.

"There never was a Simon. I made him up." The younger officers were alarmed. Did this profession drive them to the point where they needed to have fictitious partners?

"What about the flowers? Your necklace?"

Ruth continued, still not looking at Harry.

"I have been seeing someone. 'Simon' was just a legend for my real boyfriend to misdirect gossip."

Malcolm had sussed it out first. He looked over again at Harry, and even in the half-light of the darkened grid he could see the most ridiculous grin spread across his boss' features. Ruth raised her eyes from the floor and finally looked straight at Harry.

"Harry and I have been together for more than six months."

"Well, it's about bloody time!" Lucas said with a smile.

Anna was trying to reconcile the romantic picture of how she imagined Simon to be with what she knew of Harry, and being young and a little naïve, had some difficulty reconciling the two.

"So, all those stories were about Harry?"

"Not knowing what exactly Ruth told you, I don't know, but I really hope so." Harry answered. His heart was so full at the moment, he was at a loss. There was a general milling around and an air of congratulations. Some of the officers convinced themselves that they had seen it all along; they were spies after all, weren't they? Some had to hand it to the both of them, keeping it up for so long.

Malcolm, who knew what a giant leap Ruth had just taken, gave Ruth a reassuring hug.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She considered her colleague carefully.

"You knew…the whole time, didn't you?"

"Whatever you do, don't tell Harry. It would break his heart."

"How..?"

"How could I not? You can come up with the most elaborate scheme you want, but unless you can take Harry's eyes out of their sockets, there is no way you cannot _not_ know, after seeing him look at you when he thinks no one is watching. When he didn't ask me to put surveillance on Simon, I knew something was up. Well, that and the fact that I know he's been carrying an unauthorized mobile in addition to his usual one for months."

Harry had made his way over to Ruth. He was proud of her and was humbled at what she had done for him and his pride. He could feel all eyes on him and as much as he wanted to take her in his arms at that moment, he knew that there was a time and a place. He simply took her hand and whispered something for only her ears. When the lockdown was over a few minutes later, she still had a bit of a blush on her cheeks as they left in the same pod, on their way to the theatre.

_**A longish chapter this time, but I hope you enjoyed it! This may be the end of this story – haven't decided yet. (Even if it is, I'll still continue with more H/R.) Please review – I love them!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Sorry for the delay….real life/job interfering with fanfic!**_

Of course it would be this morning of all mornings that she was running late. Ruth was trying to find something suitable to wear. Her wardrobe had gradually migrated to Harry's, and since for once she spent the night in her own flat, she had not much more to choose from other than some rarely-used gym clothes and few things that were inappropriate for the season. She did the best she could, and tried to drown out Harry's voice in her head. He had asked her a few times now to move in with him. She balked, out of pure reflex. It had been just after she had told all their coworkers about their relationship, and although she was happy not to keep up the secrecy, living together seemed blatant somehow. Harry had argued, a bit unromantically, that she hated her flat, was rarely there anyway, and that his was closer to Thames House. He was right, of course. But she couldn't help but think back to the last time she had lived with anyone, and as irrational as it was, she was hesitant. She didn't have time to worry about it now – if she could make it to work on time, no doubt the psychologist would needle it out of her at her annual evaluation.

Harry hated running late. It had somehow offended his latent military sensibilities, or so Ruth said. He hadn't slept well, and as a consequence was irritated, mostly with himself, this morning. He was missing Ruth on a scale completely out of proportion with the amount of time she had been gone. She had spent one night at her own flat, but to Harry it had seemed like she had been gone much longer. He was missing the dance they did around each other as they got ready in the mornings, and really didn't have the heart for breakfast. Trying not to feel too sorry for himself, he decided to get some coffee at the canteen. He randomly pulled out a tie from the closet, and was off. On the drive, Harry contemplated Ruth and his colossal blunder. Had he taken the time and thought about it, he should have realized that asking her to move in just then had been a mistake. She had taken a huge leap in telling everyone about them, and he should have been content with that for now. Instead, he had pushed too much too soon, and now regretted it. He promised himself that he would be patient and let her take the initiative – so far, that had worked out well for him and he needed to remind himself of that.

The morning was busy, and Harry had gone from meeting to meeting, including an unprecedented conversation with the DG. He finally arrived on the Grid around lunchtime, and immediately looked over at Ruth's station. The pang he experienced when he didn't see her there surprised him for a moment, until he remembered that she had her annual psychological evaluation today. _But surely she'd be out by now?_, he pondered. Not long afterwards, he saw her come through the pods, looking flustered and a bit angry. It was a usual reaction to meeting with the psychologist, but as the afternoon progressed and Ruth steadily avoided him, Harry became increasingly worried. So much so, that he looked at the calendar, trying to figure out if there was a milestone or important event that he had forgotten. He still had a bit of time before Christmas, Ruth's birthday wasn't until spring, and there were no other occasions or anniversaries that he could think of. He desperately wanted to talk to her to find out what was wrong, but he had to tread carefully. In front of one's coworkers wasn't the best place to work out potential relationship issues. She would have to come to him with some paperwork at some point, and they could talk then.

Ruth had left the psychologist's office in a daze. She was usually not an angry person, but right now she was aglow with fury. _How dare he? How could he even contemplate this without even discussing the possibility with her?_ Despite the cold, she went to the roof for a few minutes to gain her composure. She knew that part of what she was feeling was just a reaction to having her brain picked apart and her emotions rubbed raw for the last few hours, but she had trouble wrapping her brain around the implications of what she had just heard. _He wouldn't, would he?_

It was very apparent, to Lucas at least, that Ruth was upset about something and was doing her utmost to avoid Harry. As team leader, Lucas was trying to be more mindful of the subtle emotional nuances of his team. Until Ruth's revelation, he had only the merest suspicion that something was going on between Ruth and Harry. If someone had asked him why he thought that, he doubted he could tell them anything specific. He didn't think about it much, it was just there. He was genuinely happy for them, but was on the lookout for changes on the Grid. Ruth and Harry were the last people on the planet who would ever change how they worked, but one never knew when it came to relationships amongst spooks. Still, the fact remained that things seemed not quite right between them, and Lucas shuddered at the thought of the chaos that would ensue if this relationship didn't end well.

Harry had given up. She was actively avoiding him. He caught himself staring at her, as if his gaze alone would make her charge through his office doorway. He would have to make the first move. Her phone vibrated and his message read:

**Talk to me? Love, H.**

She looked up at him through his glass office walls. He tried to look contrite, although he had no idea why. Ruth turned away, and Harry felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. A few seconds later, he received her reply:

**Later. At the Bench. R.**

He would just have to wait.

Ruth had calmed down somewhat since the shock of the morning, but she was still hurt. It was getting harder to concentrate as the day wore on, especially as she could feel Harry's gaze on her. The fact that most of the Grid were giving both her and Harry a wide berth only served to irritate her more. A little after five o'clock, she couldn't take it anymore. She gathered up her things and headed towards the pods. She had no doubt that Harry would be close on her heels. Before she made it out, Malcolm stopped her.

"Ruth, it'll be OK."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know, but you looked like you needed to hear it." He gave a little shrug, and headed back to the forgery suite.

He was taking a long time about it. She had been at "their" bench for nearly fifteen minutes before he sat down beside her. He had come from the opposite direction she had expected.

"When were you going to tell me?...Were you ever going to tell me?" the hurt in her voice was apparent. She looked at him directly for the first time that day, and he looked completely shocked.

"Tell you what?"

"Please, Harry, don't. It's bad enough as it is…"

"Ruth, I can assure you I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about."

"You've been disciplined…taking a demotion…because of me, us. But that's not bad enough. No, you decided on your own to do this. How can I possibly…?"

Harry swore profoundly and with a vehemence that startled Ruth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and precise.

"Let me guess. At your evaluation, after all the usual exercises they opened with something along the lines of, 'How do you feel about ruining his career?'"

She only nodded.

"Ruth, it's not like that at all. Even if it were, it wouldn't matter to me one jot."

"Harry…"

"No, please, just listen to me. I had a very strange meeting with the DG today. He asked me almost the very same question about you to me. Even though the Service encourages relationships amongst its officers, it seems there is no official policy or protocol for us."

"You mean…"

"Precisely. I'm your boss, and that complicates things."

"You didn't…"

"No, I didn't. It wasn't an option presented to me. Come to think of it, I'm surprised it didn't come up. The DG is under the delusion I want his job. But I will tell you now, your wrath notwithstanding, if that had been the only alternative, I probably would have resigned and been done with it."

Ruth could not believe her ears. Harry had been willing to throw away years of hard work and sacrifice, not to mention a probably considerable pension, for her? He saw the look of confusion on her face, and took her hand.

"It's not as bad as they led you to believe, Ruth. I'm not demoted. Hell, I'm not even disciplined. I have free rein as usual for all operations. I just need to have some poor sod in HR check over administrative paperwork. Leave requests, things like that."

"That's all?" The relief in her voice was palpable.

"That's all. After he couldn't persuade me to break it off, the DG threatened to send you back to GCHQ. There was no way I was going to allow that, and made my thoughts abundantly clear on the matter. You are the best analyst the section's ever had, and you are right where you belong." He brought her hand to his lips.

"I'm still angry at you, Harry. You should've discussed this with me at least."

"I didn't get a chance to. I didn't know anything about it until this morning." He continued, but more softly this time,

"It was my turn, Ruth. You had sacrificed everything for my sake once, and I thought the least I could do was be mildly inconvenienced and swallow my professional pride for yours."

She didn't know how to respond, except to squeeze his hand.

"No job or career could ever make up for the knowledge that I had let you down again."

"Harry, you never let me down."

"You're wrong. I should've dealt with Mace long before the Cotterdam fiasco. I should have figured out a way to clear your name sooner, preferably before you got on that bloody boat."

Even after all this time, they had never really talked about her exile, and now she could see all the sadness and frustration from that time in his eyes. It had been hard for her to leave everything and everyone behind, but then for the first time she realized that it was probably harder for him – to go on as usual and pretend everything was fine. She leaned into him and kissed him tenderly. They sat in companionable silence for awhile, and then Ruth started to chuckle softly.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just picturing you throwing your weight around with the DG."

"You would've enjoyed it. I was masterful, if I do say so myself. Although I'm a little ashamed to admit I did vindictively play the Knighthood card…"

"You didn't!" She knew how much having that honour had irritated him.

"I did. But for once, it served a purpose…I don't know about you, but I'm frozen and hungry. Shall we go?"

"Yes, let's go home."

_**I hope it was worth the wait! Please review!**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Here it is – the last chapter. I have a few more H/R stories brewing in my head, but I may have to wait until after 9.1, the spoilers of which are occupying my imagination! I hope you enjoy….**_

It was still quite dark, and Ruth tentatively glanced at the clock on her bedside table. She slowly stretched, while trying to convince herself that she really would get out of bed – just five minutes more. Her movements made the other occupant of the bed stir as well. Steadfastly refusing to open his eyes, Harry pulled Ruth closer to him with a satisfied moan. Ever so slowly, he started to playfully nuzzle the base of her neck. The warmth of his breath on her skin woke her up like nothing else could.

"Harry."

"Ruth."

"Harry…really, we need to get ready for work…"

"Not yet." His voice was a husky growl that in any other time and context might have been frightening.

His lips and hands continued their slow exploration of her form. If she was sleepy before, she definitely was not now. Her body was awake to him, and in another instant they would be in serious danger of not getting to work before lunch, never mind on time in the morning.

"Harry…" She meant to be stern, but her protest was decidedly half-hearted.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he hummed below her ear.

_We'll just blame it on traffic_, she thought as she shifted herself and her lips found Harry's.

She made it into the seminar room with about thirty seconds to spare. Their trip in this morning had been interesting to say the least. Harry drove hell for leather through the city, but unusually didn't swear at the traffic. She couldn't help but giggle when she saw him dash to his meeting, shoes untied, odd cufflinks, frantically doing up his tie in the elevator. _Serves him right_, she mused. Ruth was teaching an intensive course on intelligence analysis for new MI-5 recruits, and aside from her hellish schedule she was enjoying it. It had been a small victory for her to have been asked, for the Service was keen for the best people to be involved in training, and she had been selected despite her having been away for a few years. For a brief moment, she had thought Harry had something to do with it, but he had been as happy and surprised as she was when she had been approached. This meant that she was essentially working double-shifts for the better part of three weeks; she would teach until early afternoon, head to her flat for a meal and a few hours' sleep, and then back to the Grid to do her "real" job for the night shift. Harry had protested that she could take some time off the Grid, but she was stubborn and had insisted – she was adamant that no matter what, no one could ever accuse Harry of favoritism.

As a consequence, though, they had seen little of each other the last few days. When she was at her flat, trying to catch some sleep at an unlikely hour, she missed him greatly. He had become so much a part of the fabric of her life, she found it difficult to remember how her life was before an explosion and near-nuclear war had finally brought them together. Somehow in all of this, she was supposed to figure out what to get Harry for Christmas that was fast approaching. Everything she thought of seemed too conventional and inadequate for her feelings towards him. She had briefly thought of simply giving him a copy of the cancelled lease on her flat and moving in, but this seemed more of a present for her. There was also the fact that Harry hadn't mentioned living together in awhile, a fact that was worrying her more as time wore on. She had been hesitant when he had first brought it up, and Harry had sensed her reluctance. It had taken her awhile, but she had finally figured out the reason for her hesitation; it was difficult to bring up the subject when she barely saw Harry for more than a few minutes each day. Ruth promised herself that as soon as this course was over, she and Harry would take some time, even if it were only a weekend, for each other.

To say Harry had been distracted during his meeting would have been a gross understatement. It was hard to push his thoughts away from Ruth and concentrate on the bureaucratic posturing that was going on in front of him. Thankfully, this week was mostly just a summary of what he already knew (the advantage of having the team that he did), so his inattention didn't compromise national security. He was missing Ruth during this training, but he was also absurdly proud of her. Lately, the emphasis during training had been on technology as opposed to what to do with information, and Harry had no doubt that Ruth would put them right on that score. He was also worrying about what to get her for a Christmas present; everything that had come to mind he immediately dismissed as being trite and woefully inadequate. It certainly didn't help matters that he didn't have much time to get some hints or suggestions out of her.

Much later that day when he had arrived at the restaurant to meet Catherine for lunch, he nearly didn't recognize his daughter from behind. In his head, she would always be a fiery-tempered little girl of about eight arguing with him about all manner of things. Now she was a beautiful, self-assured woman about to get married. She still argued with him quite a bit (without the animosity though), and it was oddly reassuring to him that at least that hadn't changed. She gave him a hug, pecked him on the cheek, and asked him how Ruth was.

"_I'm_ fine, how are you?" he replied.

"Dad, you haven't messed things up with her, have you?" Catherine was truly concerned for a moment, until her father's face dissolved into a look of general besottedness.

"No, we're fine, really. She's just doing some training courses and is very busy for the next few weeks." He wasn't going to argue with her conclusion that he would be the one to "mess up" as she put it, since he thought it would probably be true.

"Well, I'm glad, because I already have the best Christmas present for her…and no, I'm not telling you what it is." She was as stubborn as he was, and he knew he didn't have a chance.

They talked of lots of things, mostly Catherine's wedding coming up in the spring, and her fiancé's job transfer to London in the New Year.

"Mom's driving me crazy with all the wedding planning…"

"Don't get me in the middle of that." Harry knew better than to get in the way of Jane when she had a "project".

"I just wanted something simple…"

"Then do what you and Stephen want. You're mother will get over it…_eventually_." He chuckled.

They continued to chat about details of the ceremony. Harry was happy beyond belief that Catherine had asked him to give her away; a few years ago even his mere presence would not have been an automatic thing. They were still working slowly through their past difficulties, and now enjoyed a welcome but still sometimes awkward truce. As they talked, Catherine couldn't help but notice a hint of wistfulness about her father – she couldn't tell if it was on her account, or Ruth's. She decided not to press the matter. He was oddly evasive about Ruth today and she knew him well enough to know when he would keep his own counsel. He was evidently happy, which was the important thing.

Ruth was on her way to the Grid and idly wondered if Harry would still be there. He had been staying later and bringing in dinner for the both of them most days. As far as she could tell, he didn't do much other than watch her work during those times; more than once she had to tell him to stop staring so she could get some work done. Soon after, he would go home, looking not the least bit contrite. A few times when he knew he would be tied up in meetings, he left her notes on her desk – cryptic enough to confuse the casual onlooker, but full of meaning to the two of them. She checked her messages on her phone while on the bus. There was one from Harry, and she could practically see his sad eyes as she heard his voice telling her to have a good evening. _That settles it then_, she thought. The other message was from Catherine, who she couldn't help but like immensely:

"_Hi, Ruth. Sorry I missed you at lunch. Please tell me I'm not a horrible person if I don't give a toss what color candles are in the centerpieces at the reception. Dad tried to sympathize, but he's a man, so all this wedding stuff is beyond him. I know you're busy with spy school, but if he goes to check out any flats for us, could you go along? I'm sure he's going to do full security sweeps, but I'll need to know the important stuff like whether or not the cooker works. Sorry to leave such a long message…we really need to get together soon. Hope all is well with you…Bye._"

Ruth was surprised to realize that she envied Catherine a little bit.

The next few days were a blur. The Section was busy with a hostage situation as well as tracking an arms shipment from South America. Ruth tried not to worry too much; she had made Malcolm swear on all that he held holy that she would be called right away if they needed her at anytime. Her students were coming along nicely, she thought. They were incredibly young, and she hoped that she hadn't been as naïve as they were when she started. As an exercise, she had them work on some intelligence on the arms shipment that in the end had proven instrumental not only in seizing the weapons, but getting a major arms dealer out of business. After a brief celebratory drink with some of the recruits, she fought with herself about whether to go see Harry or to get some much-needed sleep. When she nearly boarded a bus going in the opposite direction to Thames House out of sheer exhaustion, she changed her mind about heading in and made her way to Harry's, which was the closest. Part of her was hoping that he would be there despite the time of day, but a part was relieved he wasn't. If he had been there, she would have wanted to stay awake and talk to him for awhile, which was unwise in her current state.

Harry's was impeccably neat, as usual, although she could never decide if it was because it was a habit he had picked up from the army or he was just rarely there. She was leaning toward the latter, as he didn't seem to mind her clutter around. At any given time, there were at least three books lying about. She rummaged in the kitchen for something to eat, and finding something that approximated a meal, settled down at the table. Once she finished eating and put the dishes in the sink, she kicked off her shoes and headed upstairs. She was practically asleep before her head hit the pillow.

It had been a long few days, and Harry was looking forward to being home and maybe getting a chance to see Ruth. He was going to dig his heels in and forbid her to go back to the Grid tonight. After the job she did today, she deserved a few hours' down time. He was happy – not only had the op gone extremely well, but he had finally located Ruth's present. He had come across it quite by accident, and he fervently hoped that she would like it. The small antique volume of love poetry could express his feelings more articulately than he could. He entered the house and was prepared to argue with her about going to work, but all was silent. He hid the slim volume in a drawer in his study before quietly mounting the stairs. The sight of her sleeping made his heart turn over. Her hair and clothes were disheveled but she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even after all this time she had an extraordinary effect on him, and he wondered, for perhaps the ten millionth time, what it was she saw in him. She stirred ever so slightly. Something that Catherine said to him the other day suddenly popped into his mind:

"It's only complicated if you make it so."

She was referring to something else entirely, but it was if he had been thumped between the shoulder blades. Ruth stirred again, and he was afraid she would awaken. He left a message for her, and slipped quietly out of the house.

When Ruth woke, she was disoriented for a moment. Her schedule was playing hell with her internal clock. It was dark, but the house was silent. Harry must have been here, because she found his note:

**Lucas is under strict orders not to let you through the pods, so don't even attempt to go in tonight. Love, H.**

When Harry didn't answer his mobile, she called the Grid. It was Lucas on the other end.

"Ruth, please don't come in tonight. There's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow, and I really don't want to deal with Harry if he finds out you were here."

"Is Harry there?"

"No. I'd assumed he'd be with you."

"He's probably shopping. Thanks, Lucas, and good night."

She found him leaning up against the railing, looking into the river. She knew he often came down here when he needed to clear his head and was very pleased with herself that she found him in the first place she looked. She came up beside him and laced her arm in his. He didn't move.

"You're not avoiding me, are you?"

"No, you needed the rest and I just thought you'd sleep a little longer if I wasn't pottering about." His voice was soft, and there was something in it that worried her a little.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I've been thinking a lot lately…I don't think we should live together." He felt her stiffen beside him, and instantly knew he had started out with the wrong thing. He was flustered, and he started babbling.

"Damn…what I meant was…I should have said…Ruth…"

He had imagined this a thousand different ways, but him sounding like a complete idiot wasn't one of them. After her initial shock, she couldn't help but laugh at his discomfort.

"Breathe, Harry." He did as he was told, and smiled back at her, finally realizing the irony.

"Ruth, I don't _just_ want to live together. I want to be married…to you, obviously."

He shrugged ever so slightly. It had been a risk, but one he felt he had to take. He had no idea if she even wanted to be married – after all, she had been happy with George but had never gone through with it. He suddenly felt intensely sorry for George. As she stood there silently in front of him, he had no idea if a second or a year had passed. His heart threatened to pound its way out of his chest. For her part, she had scarcely believed what she had just heard. As much as she wanted to marry him, she had always assumed that after the wreck of his first marriage, Harry would not be interested in matrimony again.

"Marry me?" his voice was barely a whisper, now tinged with a little bit of panic.

"Of course."

Her reply was followed rapidly by kisses. Harry pulled away first after some time, and she let escape a little moan of protest.

"I very nearly forgot. Give me your hand."

"You…?"

"I've had it for ages. Very nearly lost it once, too. If you don't like it, we'll pick out another one… " He grinned as the ring slipped onto her finger perfectly.

"Harry…it's perfect…" Tears were streaming unchecked down her face. She continued,

"How did you know my ring size?"

"I'm a spook, Ruth."

"When…?"

"Honestly? I called an old asset of mine, who happens to be a jeweler, the day after our first night…"

At this revelation, there was nothing left for her to do than to fall back into his arms again.

_**Thanks very much for reading! I tried hard to make the ending not too cheesy. Please take a moment and leave a review (I am a review junkie!). **_


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